


Potential

by Terrific_Lunacy



Series: First encounters in history [1]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Hamilton POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrific_Lunacy/pseuds/Terrific_Lunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Washington sees Hamilton he is putting together an earthwork. That evening he invites him to his tent and offers him to join his staff.</p><p>  <em> I am no secretary. I am better, I can do more, I can do anything if you let me. I will do anything for you to let me. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Potential

**Author's Note:**

> So this really isn't anything too original, but I want to do a series of ~1k drabbles that describe the first meetings of the people who wrote history. Based on true events, but heh, historically inaccurate for dramatics' sake.

 

 

 

_General Washington wants to speak to you._

Seven words, and the world began to shift under his feet.

Hamilton could feel it very acutely, the way everything suddenly lurched into motion. He could feel it, because every second of his 21 years he had waited for his life to begin. Fate hadn’t provided him with another option, hadn’t given him a chance to do anything else than sit around and rot.

Hamilton detested waiting. He never wanted to wait again.

There was a voice in his head, trying to whisper reason and logic into his brain. He didn’t know what the general wanted after all. It could be just as bad as it could be good to be called by your superior officers.

Hamilton’s thoughts stayed reasonable, but even so he could feel the world turning underneath him. Not still anymore, never again.

He entered the tent briskly and snapped to attention.

“Your Excellency, you wanted to see me.”

George Washington looked up at him from behind his table, hunched over a stack of papers. Hamilton had seen the General from afar several times. The man made a striking figure, the very model of a general, towering over everyone else, on foot or on horseback.

However Hamilton had not quite been prepared for the razor sharp focus of the man. Despite the several feet of distance between them, Hamilton could feel the attention on him physically. Once all the way down to his boots and up again, seizing him up, judging him.

Everyone was always judging him.

If it were possible, Hamilton would have straightened up further, but he knew it to be useless. He always stood as tall has his small frame would allow him.

“Colonel Hamilton I presume? At ease.”

“Yes, Sir.”

 Hamilton clasped his hands behind his back smartly.

“You were putting together an earthwork around the camp today,” the general said, a hint of a question in his tone.

“To help fortify our defences, Sir.”

Washington seemed amused at his answer. “I know what an earthwork is for, son.”

“I-…” Hamilton lost his trail of thought completely.

 _Son_. What on earth..? Why..?

“I’m asking whose instructions you were following.”

“No one’s, Sir, I-…” he grasped for words. He never had to search for words before. “Have I done something wrong, Sir?”

The general seemed perplexed. “No of course not, on the contrary. You have shown incredible dedication and foresight when everyone else took the time to relax.”

He shuffled the papers in front of him and pulled a single sheet out of a stack, scanning it. “I was reviewing your enlistment information.”

There was a pause between them. Gentle curiosity from Washington’s side, bitter trepidation on Hamilton’s.

“I was merely wondering… You did not indicate any next to kin,” the general continued cautiously.

“No, Sir.” He did not offer any explanation.

“You left the place of origin empty.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“In fact that sheet is practically empty except your remarkable experiences in the trading business and your attendance at King’s college.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hamilton,” Washington said, half amused, half exasperated at the young man’s reticence. “Instead of a date of birth there is a _range_ of years.” *****

Hamilton could feel the mortification rise in him, the burn of his shame familiar by now.

_Illegitimate. Bastard. Orphan. Son of a whore._

He clenched his teeth and stood his ground. “Yes, Sir.”

The general was watching him closely. “I see.”

Hamilton stiffened further at these words. Of course the general would _see_. See him for what he was. An imposter, desperate to rise above his station. What else had he expected from this encounter? And yet, the world was set in motion.

Washington discarded the paper on his desk without another glance at it.

“I wanted to offer you a position on my staff, Hamilton. Though I understand you previously turned down similar proposals from both general Knox and general Greene.”

A position. Washington wanted him. Washington saw something else in him.

Suddenly it wasn’t blood flowing in his veins, it was _potential._

“They wanted me as their secretary, Sir,” Hamilton said hastily, anticipation buzzing in his ears, willing the general to understand.

_I am no secretary. I am better, I can do more, I can do anything if you let me. I will do anything for you to let me._

“Is writing not to your liking, colonel?”

Hamilton had to stop himself from laughing, or crying. Words were the only thing he had.

“I am very good with words, Sir, my _own_ words. Merely copying them down is…”

_Beneath me. A waste of time. I can do more._

It was arrogant, Hamilton knew that. He didn’t care anymore. He was done with waiting

“I have turned their offers down because I know many men who can fulfil that position. I wish to serve our cause and our country to the fullest of my abilities, Sir, I-…”

Washington laughed. It wasn’t mocking, but warm, full of genuine mirth. The serious lines on his face disappeared and suddenly he wasn’t a marble statue in the distance but a human being.

“You…turned down a promotion…because… my God…”

The general exhaled and stood up. Hamilton stood motionless as the taller man approached him. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and only his rigid posture prevented him from flinching.

“Enlighten me then,” the general said only half-jokingly, “what position would permit you to fully exploit your potential? Are you thirsting for mine?”

“I am no general, Sir,” Hamilton replied earnestly.

“What are you then?”

“What do you need me to be?”

Now it was the general’s turn to straighten his spine, his expression serious and wary. “I need to win this war. Can you help me do that, son?”

_Son._

He would need to correct the general on that appellation, at some point.

Hamilton had to crane his neck to look Washington dead in the eyes, mirroring his solemn expression.

“Yes,” he answered with conviction.

Washington hired him officially as his aide-de-camp, letting him handle all of his correspondences, often introducing him as his secretary with laughter still dancing in his eyes.

They won the war.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> * Hamilton was born on January 11 in 1755 **or** 1757\. The fact that we don't even know the year for sure amuses me greatly. He knew when he was born of course, but I used it here to further emphasize his nebulous origins.


End file.
